


Sweetest High

by CongratulationsBaby



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26512441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongratulationsBaby/pseuds/CongratulationsBaby
Summary: Prompted by a tumblr user:Bridget is given some special brownies, which she and Franky enjoy immensely.Set post 6x03.
Relationships: Franky Doyle/Bridget Westfall
Comments: 10
Kudos: 52





	Sweetest High

**Author's Note:**

> A/N
> 
> So I was prompted on tumblr by a user (KN) - the prompt can be found in the end footnotes (so as not to give the story away). Thank you KN for reaching out and prompting :D
> 
> This was a challenging but fun one, as I've never tried special brownies before! So I've used a lot of creative license on this one (apologies if it's not at all correct). 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Wentworth or any of the characters, you know, the usual 'don't sue me' content.

**Sweetest High**

“Okay Troy, that’s great. I’ll see you next week.”

Bridget led her last client for the day out of her office, holding open the door so he could make a hasty exit. Some people just didn’t want to engage, and Troy was one of them, skirting around every question she asked until Bridget felt exhausted enough to call it a day.

As she heard the front door to ‘Life Solutions’ slam closed, she turned to the secretary out front and released a long-suffering sigh.

“I think I’ll head home for the day, Denise.”

Denise smiled and waved her away, but as Bridget walked back toward her office to collect her coat and bag, the young secretary called out:

“Oh, Bridget! I forgot!”

Suddenly, Bridget’s hands were filled with a large round cling-wrapped plate, overflowing with brownies. 

“What are these?” she asked, confused. _Am I forgetting an important date?_

Her first thought of course travelled to the tattooed brunette currently over-working herself in the Legal Relief office downtown. But why would Franky send her brownies? It wasn’t their anniversary and, as spontaneous and romantic as her partner could be sometimes, a plate filled with brownies wasn’t her usual modus operandi.

“Vivian brought them in for you,” Denise’s eyebrows rose as if hinting at something.

Bridget tried hard to put a face to the name.

_Vivian… Vivian… Vivian… oh._

“Ah,” Bridget smiled, finally cottoning on to Denise’s overt facial expression.

Vivian. The client who often came in high as a kite, going over in their sessions because the pot in her system meant that the young woman was very relaxed. _Too_ relaxed, Bridget always thought, especially when she had to hear _every_ innermost thought.

“I didn’t want to bin them in front of her,” Denise explained, “so I’ve done my part. I’d just bin them at home if I were you.”

“Well it’s not every day you get such a … _special …_ treat,” Bridget responded lightly, her eyes sparkling with mirth, “make sure you tell her I took them.”

“Will do, goodnight Bridget!”

****

By the time Franky arrived home, it was dark out.

She cursed as she fumbled with the front door keys, juggling her laptop bag and her paperwork, before giving up entirely and just jamming her finger against the doorbell.

She waited a few minutes, but there seemed to be no movement on the other side of the door.

Franky glanced over once more, checking that it was Bridget’s silver car that was parked in their driveway. What could the blonde be doing? Franky wondered if she’d run herself a bath and fell asleep again. It was one of Bridget’s favourite things to do, the brunette had discovered very early on; she’d slip into a hot bath with a glass of wine and a good book, and Franky would often open the bathroom door hours later to find her still in there, snoring softly, the book lying on the floor next to her.

_C’mon, Gidge._

Franky rang the bell once more, debating just dropping her bags and paperwork onto the gravel beside her and fishing her keys out.

Suddenly she saw movement and the front door opened slowly, revealing the cautious face of Bridget.

“Thank fuck, Gidge, I thought I was gonna freeze to death out here,” Franky joked, barrelling past her partner and into the house. She dropped her bag on the cabinet next to the door and proceeded to dump her paperwork on the top shelf of the nearby shoe-rack. There was nothing organised about Franky. She turned around and went to bring Bridget into a weary hug (a habit they’d fallen into after long days at the office, just standing there in the hall in each others arms), but stopped short when she looked at Bridget’s face.

The blonde’s eyes were glazed, tracking Franky’s own face a lot slower than usual. Franky searched them for clues as to what was wrong. She was fine this morning, wasn’t she? Franky had sent her off with a heated kiss, pushing the laughing Bridget out the door. Had she caught a bug at work? Bridget was smiling though, and it was a really relaxed smile, not at all strained so it couldn’t be that she was trying to hide that she was feeling sick.

“Gidge…”

“Hmmm?” Bridget acknowledged, biting her lip as she now looked Franky up and down with a bright smile.

“Are ya feeling okay?”

“Sure, baby, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re acting weird,” Franky turned around and headed toward the kitchen, wondering if she was going to see empty bottles on the counter. Sometimes Bridget liked to forget a day using wine. A _lot_ of wine. Franky didn’t mind of course, she would never judge the blonde harshly, but Bridget had promised she’d stopped drinking to escape difficult situations (after her incident at Wentworth) and Franky knew that, come the morning, she would be so disappointed in herself for giving in.

As she rounded the corner, Franky spotted them. Sitting on the counter, cling-wrap pulled away, was a plate of brownies. Usually innocuous, except Franky was no stranger to _these_ brownies.

“Holy _fuck_!”

She let out a laugh as she stared at them, feeling Bridget’s arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“Gidge,” Franky turned around in the older woman’s arms, and leaned back to look her in the eyes once more, “you’re fucking high as a kite right now, aren’t you?”

“Nuh,” Bridget shook her head, smiling, “I’m just tired.”

“You are _so_ spaced,” Franky laughed again, “I _knew_ ya had it in ya, naughty minx! How many did you eat? One? Two?”

Bridget sighed and dropped her head against Franky’s collarbone.

“Two,” she mumbled, trying to muffle her words in the brunette’s neck.

“Fuck, I’m surprised you’re still standing.”

“You gonna join me?” Bridget grinned, still nuzzling Franky’s neck.

Franky debated it. She was no longer on parole, she was technically free to do all of that without legal repercussions. Bridget, the oh-so-put-together _Bridget Westfall_ was currently so relaxed she was practically melting against her… _what the hell._

“Sure, I’ll grab a couple. Can’t let ya ride your high alone, Gidge.”

****

“The exercise yard.”

“Hmmm?” Franky lazily trailed her hand up and down Bridget’s leg as they relaxed on the couch. Bridget laid back against the cushions, her legs hooked over a slouching Franky, who was particularly fascinated by the softness of the blonde’s skin.

“The excercise yard,” Bridget explained, smiling, “first time I wanted to fuck you.”

Franky laughed, her eyes bright as she turned her face toward her partner.

“Liked the way I lifted those weights, did ya?”

“Mmhhmm,” Bridget hummed in response, “I watched you. I already knew I felt a connection to you… but watching you work out…”

Franky leaned over and stole a soft kiss, before pulling back. She continued trailing her fingers up and down her partner’s leg, reaching her knee where her hands were met with skirt, before slowly gliding them back down to her ankle.

“When I saw you in the Porsche,” Franky responded languidly, “first time I admitted to myself that I was in love with you.”

Bridget wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and the brunette snorted, both of them letting out peals of laughter. The brownies had taken effect long ago, and somehow they’d fallen into reminiscing.

“Seeing you with Allie,” Bridget admitted quietly, her smile slipping for a moment as she became lost in thought, “first time I ever really doubted what we had.”

Franky drew in a sharp breath, feeling the haziness of the brownie still surround her mind but knowing instinctively that she had to tread carefully. They hadn’t really discussed what had happened on Franky’s second run inside Wentworth. Bridget knew all the details, of course (Franky could never, _would_ never, hide anything from her), but the psychologist hadn’t unpacked that box quite yet. Franky had tried on several occasions, knowing it was better to clear the air, but Bridget had refused to dwell on it and always changed the topic. Classic avoidance technique, apparently even a psychologist couldn’t escape it.

However, Franky wondered if this delightfully relaxed environment might give them time to really open up, to clear the air once and for all.

“Tell me what you’re feeling, Gidge,” she said slowly, trying to focus and not spook the blonde into clamming up.

Bridget remained silent, her glazed eyes staring off at the far wall where photos of them both hung, though she didn’t seem to be paying them any particular attention. Franky in turn just waited patiently, her head lolling back against the sofa as she struggled to remain sharp.

“I let Joan Ferguson get in my head,” Bridget finally said, turning her attention back, “she said you had upgraded to a younger, prettier model. I saw you pushing me away, and I saw you getting closer to Allie, to the _old_ Franky, and I…”

She released a slow breath. Tears collected in her eyes and she rubbed them furiously with the palm of her hand.

“I felt like I had lost you. For the first time in our relationship, I felt like I was not enough.”

Franky didn’t respond and watched as Bridget shook her head, as if to clear the room of her emotional revelation, before reaching for another brownie from the plate on the coffee table in front of them.

The brunette grabbed her hand as it neared the plate, holding it solidly as she brushed her thumb against Bridget’s knuckles. Bridget looked at their connected hands, watching with an unreadable expression.

“Gidge…”

Franky was still riding her high but the pain that laced Bridget’s voice, the vulnerability there, cut through the pleasant nature of the brownies like a knife. The blonde continued to watch their hands silently, her eyes still reflecting the effects of their recreational snacking. Franky tried again.

“ _Bridget._ ”

At this, the psychologist’s eyes shot up and met hers.

“You are enough,” Franky started with a soft smile, “you are _more_ than enough. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you’re smart and you’re beautiful… _fuck,_ you will _never_ lose me, yeah?”

Bridget gave an imperceptible nod, though a smile started to tug at her lips and replace the frown that had previously clouded her features.

It was just a start, but they were getting somewhere now and Franky capitalised on it. She leaned over Bridget’s legs and plucked another brownie from the plate, splitting it in half. She handed one half to Bridget and inhaled the other half quickly, not even taking time to savour it. Bridget relished her piece and laughed as she watched Franky eat, knowing that her fast eating came from her years spent sitting next to Boomer and having her desserts stolen.

“You’ve made a mess, baby,” the blonde laughed, leaning over and wiping chocolate from Franky’s mouth gently with her thumb, “what am I going to do with you?”

“The question, Gidge,” Franky responded as she caught Bridget’s thumb in between her teeth, gently nipping at it, “is what am _I_ going to do with _you?_ ”

She heard Bridget’s breath catch and smiled triumphantly. Bridget’s eyelids drooped and Franky couldn’t tell if it was the effects of desire or the final brownie taking its toll.

“I think I need to show you just how irresistible you really are,” Franky leaned over once more and drew Bridget in for a heated kiss. Their tongues slid together but neither battled for dominance of the kiss, instead they were content to just explore and reconnect. Bridget moaned into her mouth, and Franky took that as her cue to continue what she started, pulling her lips away and trailing them down her neck.

Bridget’s head fell back against the cushions and Franky saw an opportunity. She gently extricated herself from underneath Bridget’s legs, before prying them open and settling her body down between them. She pressed against Bridget’s body, grinding her hips as she did so, her hands taking purchase against the sofa beneath so she could gaze adoringly down at her partner.

Bridget pulled her down for another frenzied kiss, to which Franky gladly surrendered.

Franky moved one hand to trail along the blonde’s collarbone, down further until she caressed her breasts.

“Fuck,” Bridget sighed lazily, her eyes struggling to remain open as she watched Franky’s face.

“That’s the plan,” Franky whispered in response, her touch firmer now and drawing the sweetest noises from Bridget’s lips.

Franky grinned at the reactions and slowly moved down her body, collapsing onto the floor with a sudden _oof_ but without pause. Her hands started to caress Bridget’s legs, slowly sliding up her calves and onto her thighs under her skirt. Bridget’s legs twitched, but at her angle Franky couldn’t see her face. The tattooed brunette’s fingers toyed with Bridget’s underwear, plucking at them as she grinned at the view.

“ _Fuck,_ Gidge, you’re excited.”

No response.

Franky looked up curiously but again couldn’t see the blonde’s face. She snapped Bridget’s underwear against her skin, receiving no response. Usually Bridget would be absolutely wild at this point, encouraging her. Pushing herself to her knees to see what was going on, Franky looked over and bit back a laugh at the sight. Bridget lay back against the sofa, her mouth hanging open and eyes closed as she exhaled rhythmically. The final brownie had clearly been a mistake.

“Oh, Gidge,” Franky placed one last kiss to the inside of Bridget’s thigh before pulling her skirt back down. She glared at the plate of brownies as she tugged a blanket off of the armchair next to them, draping it over her partner lovingly.

In the morning she’d ask where the brownies came from and send both a thank you and a _fuck_ you card.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it, love it, bop it. 
> 
> The prompt so wonderfully provided was: "one of Bridget's clients give her some special brownies as a gift and she shares them with Franky and they have cute little heart to hearts and one tries to initiate sex but the other has passed out."
> 
> Hope it lives up to your expectations, KN!
> 
> I'm open to prompts on tumblr :) my username is congratulationsbaby - so feel free to message!


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